


yes here of course

by blackglass, resistate



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, Canton-era, Carmen-era, Collaboration, Community: pod_together, Dancing, F/M, Happy Ending, Kissing, Light Angst, Podfic, Podfic Length: 30-45 Minutes, Romance, Softness, brief mentions of chronic pain, brief mentions of dieting, kitchen dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-07-10 13:36:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19906567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackglass/pseuds/blackglass, https://archiveofourown.org/users/resistate/pseuds/resistate
Summary: If Tessa sang to Scott, it would mean something. She knows it, and she thinks Scott knows it too.[Podfic AND story text within]





	1. Podfic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The podfic version

  
  
Cover art by: [resistate/idella](http://archiveofourown.org/users/resistate)  


**Right click and save as:**  
[mp3 w/ music (LQ)](http://blackglass.parakaproductions.com/podfic/yes%20here%20of%20course.mp3) | [mp3 w/ music (HQ)](http://blackglass.parakaproductions.com/podfic/yes%20here%20of%20course%20\(hq\).mp3)  
[mp3 w/o music (LQ)](http://blackglass.parakaproductions.com/podfic/yes%20here%20of%20course%20\(no%20music\).mp3) | [mp3 w/o music (HQ)](http://blackglass.parakaproductions.com/podfic/yes%20here%20of%20course%20\(no%20music%20hq\).mp3)  


****

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **blackglass:** I don't really go here, but I--like most of the world--really wanted Tessa and Scott to BE IN LOVE while watching the Olympics and was super on-board with collaborating with resistate to combine our favorite things (music and MAKING PEOPLE KISS) for pod-together. Thanks for writing this beautiful story that was so smooth to read, resistate! And thanks for making the cover art for this podfic! Also ayyyyy this is my 500th podfic on AO3!!!
> 
> Music:
> 
> 1) "Lover's Day" by TV on the Radio  
> 2) "Maps" by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs  
> 3) "There's No Way" by Lauv ft. Julia Michaels


	2. Story text

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The text version

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **resistate:** This chapter contains the text version. I encourage you, if you haven't already, to listen to the podfic version found in the first chapter of this work! This story was written to be heard where possible rather than read :D

‘So, anyway,’ Scott says, one morning when they’re trudging from his car to the rink. It’s dark, and Tessa’s barely awake, and she’s so surprised that Scott’s saying anything that she almost trips over her own feet. Tessa is not a morning person. Scott never starts saying actual things to her until they’ve warmed up and done a couple of laps around the ice.

‘What?’ says Tessa, when Scott doesn’t say anything. She hitches the bag with her gear higher on her shoulder.

‘Me and Jess broke up,’ Scott says.

‘Again?’ Tessa says. She’s heard this before. He and Jess have been on-again off-again since they first started going out a couple of years ago.

‘No, for good,’ Scott says, and there’s a finality in his voice she hasn’t heard before. Even the last time he and Jess had called it quits, at the beginning of the summer, Scott had just shrugged when Tessa had asked if he thought they’d get back together.

‘Oh,’ she says, because that’s all she can think to say. Jess is nice and everything, and she’s never given Tessa a hard time the way some other skaters have, but still. Tessa’s never particularly liked her.

‘Yeah, well,’ Scott says. He’s carrying their precious morning coffees plus his own gear, so Tessa pushes open the heavy arena door. It’s colder inside than out and she wraps her scarf more tightly around her throat.

‘I’m sorry,’ she says, awkwardly.

‘Thanks,’ Scott says, just as awkwardly.

//

‘So, what happened?’ Tessa asks later, when they’re eating their packed lunches in the break room.

‘What do you mean, “what happened”?’ Scott asks. He slides half of one of his sandwiches toward her, like always, and she accepts it without saying anything, like always.

It’s egg salad, Tessa’s favourite. Her own sandwich is long gone. Scott gets to eat more than she does, just because he’s a guy, which she’s never thought is fair. She takes a bite and chews and swallows before answering. ‘With you and Jess,’ she says.

Tessa doesn’t usually pry. She figures Scott’s love life isn’t really any of her business, but she’s curious about what makes this breakup different from all the other breakups. She wonders how he knows this is really the end.

‘Oh, that,’ Scott says. He digs through his plastic container of mixed nuts, looking for almonds. Tessa buys the same pack as Scott from Safeway, and she rummages in her bag for her own container. She separates the almonds from rest of her afternoon snack and deposits them in Scott’s palm. He stuffs the entire handful in his mouth. Tessa makes a face.

‘She wants to try and make it work with Bryce,’ says Scott, once he’s finished the almonds. ‘I mean, good luck to them I guess, right?’

Tessa can’t laugh that bursts out of her, or rest of the laughter quick on its heels. It’s not even that funny, is the thing. ‘Sorry,’ she wheezes, once she’s managed to stop.

She’s more than prepared to let it drop, but Scott isn’t. ‘What’s so funny?’

‘How does she think that’s going to work? I mean, how has it been working? He’s her partner,’ Tessa explains. She’s had the dangers of getting involved with your partner drilled into her for years, starting long before it could possibly have been relevant to her and Scott. Jess and Bryce have been on-again off-again for years, is the rumour, though Tessa’s never known how much credence to give it. She doesn’t have any inside information, because she and Scott have never really talked about Jess.

‘I don’t see what them being partners has to do with anything,’ Scott says, annoyed. Tessa shrugs, not sure how to explain what she means. It’s dangerous, counting on your partner for more than you have to. Scott should know that already. Look at Tessa. Look at Tessa’s legs.

Charlie comes over then, sliding into the empty spot next to Scott. He starts talking as soon as he sits down, unpacking his lunch with gusto; spreading various containers over what seems like half the table. He and Scott fall into conversation about the hockey season and the mood at the table lifts. Tessa thinks about going outside and getting some fresh air before their planning session with Marina and Johnny, but then Charlie’s asking if they’re coming over to his that night. A bunch of people from the rink are going to be there and it would be great to see both of them, he says, plus Tanith’s hooked him up with some new tunes.

It amuses Tessa how Charlie always seems surprised by the idea of a party, like it’s all spur of the moment; like there’s not something at someone’s practically every Friday from April through to the start of the Grand Prix, if enough people are around. Scott catches her eye; he’s up for it if she is. ‘We’ll be there,’ she says to Charlie. He beams.

//

Meryl squeezes next to Tessa on Charlie’s couch that evening, peering at the playlist on Charlie’s phone. ‘That’s not new,’ she points out. ‘That’s from like, a million years ago.’

Charlie shrugs, unconcerned. ‘It’s new to me,’ he says. ‘Give it a try, Meryl.’

Tessa’s never heard of the album Charlie’s all excited about. Curious, she googles it. It’s from 2003, which is hilarious, mostly because Tessa’s favourite group has been around since the 70s.

Charlie plays the album twice at the beginning of the night and queues it up again just before midnight. His house, his rules, she supposes, but she’s getting tired, and she hasn’t seen Scott in a while. She finally finds him sitting at the far end of Charlie’s backyard, huddled in his jacket. There’s a mostly full beer balanced on the rickety table in front of him.

‘Hey,’ she says.

‘Hey,’ Scott says. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. The chair across from Scott is grimy and damp and it’s too cold to sit, anyway, so she just stands there awkwardly. Scott offers her his jacket, but she turns him down, telling him he looks like he’s freezing. He shrugs and doesn’t insist. It’s not like him. The way he seems to be looking right through her, like he maybe doesn’t really see her, isn’t like him either. He’d been quiet all afternoon, she recalls, and Scott’s never quiet. She doesn’t remember seeing him like this the other times he and Jess called it quits. Maybe this really is the end.

‘Do you want to dance?’ she says, finally. She doesn’t want to leave Scott out here in the dark by himself, but she’d be cold even if she went and got her own jacket from where it’s hanging in Charlie’s hall closet.

She’s expecting him to say no, but he doesn’t. He stands and drinks the rest of his beer, throat working, and heads toward the house. Tessa follows him.

Charlie’s living room is jam-packed. She and Scott inch their way toward the kitchen where there’s bound to be more room and where they’ll be able to hear the music. To be fair, Tessa could hear the music when she was in the backyard. She wouldn’t want to live in one of the houses near Charlie’s, that’s for sure.

The kitchen is deserted and she and Scott dance to the next couple of songs in relative peace and quiet. Scott finally takes off his jacket off, incorporating this into a particularly complicated move, and a couple of people who’ve come to get more beer applaud and wind up sticking around. Scott’s still in a strange mood, but he’s channelling it into his dancing; she can tell from the way he’s suddenly present again, hyper-focused. Scott plays to the audience during the last song, the one with the lyrics that make Tessa blush, and they eat out of his hand. She knows it’s just dancing; just— _Scott_ , but the way he looks at her during the soft parts of the song, like he means it, make her think she could, too, if she let herself.

He pulls her into a hug when they’re done. He’s barely winded but she feels his heartbeat pounding against her chest all the same.

When he doesn’t let go right away, she palms small, gentle circles into his back. ‘You okay?’ she asks.

‘Yeah,’ he says, into her hair. His arms tighten around her. ‘I am now, yeah.’

//

Charlie’s album, as she takes to calling it, grows on her the more she listens to it. She listens to it a lot, because Charlie has it bad for Tanith; he’d listen to the flipping _Libertango_ on a loop if Tanith so much as mentioned it. Tessa couldn’t even blame Charlie if he did, because she’s not any better; not really. And at least he’s allowed to want Tanith. At least she’s not his partner.

Charlie’s place has exactly the same layout as Tessa’s, and Scott’s, and everyone else shacking up in furnished townhouses, but he’s more willing than most to have his home regularly invaded by dozens of under-socialised skaters.

Tessa never hosts. Too much mess, she says, but really, she needs to be able to leave whenever she wants. She makes a point of clearing away her beer bottles and solo cups and helping clean up at the end of the night, to make up for never hosting. No one seems to much care that she doesn’t, but Tessa doesn’t want to not do her fair share.

It becomes a thing: playing the same album—Charlie’s album—to end a party. Meryl knows someone who has a brother, or maybe a sister, who’s younger; not a skater, in high school in Illinois who says they always play the same song at the end of school dances. Something about stairways and heaven; something Meryl says is never going to be good to dance to on ice. Not in competition, anyway. Tessa had gone to an actual high school in Waterloo for a couple of years, when she’d been living with her first host family, but she hadn’t stayed to the end of the first dance she’d tried, and she hadn’t bothered going to any of the other ones.

There’s a general feeling that someone should pay Tanith some serious money to recommend that Charlie listen to something— _anything_ —else, but at the same time, everyone’s onboard with using his album as shorthand for winding down and clearing out. Tessa has to laugh, because as quick as they all are to complain about how regimented their lives are, they’re just as quick to cling to the comfort of any structure that suggests itself.

Tessa includes herself in this assessment; she’s not foolish enough to think she’s more well-adjusted that anyone else in her cobbled-together family here in Canton. That’s probably part of it too, she figures. They’re all away from home. They’re all in the market for new traditions.

Charlie’s album becomes tradition, and Scott and Tessa dancing to the last song becomes tradition too. They’re in each other’s orbits at parties anyway, a lot of the time. The next couple of times after the first time happen kind of by accident, but it’s enough. After that, it’s their song.

It doesn’t take long for Scott to learn all the words, and Tessa has no choice but to learn them too, because Scott sings to her when they’re dancing in Charlie’s kitchen just like he does when they’re on the ice. If a song doesn’t have words, he’ll simply make something up. Tessa’s never heard such strings of nonsense in her life as she has this season, with Scott singing her their short dance waltz as well as _Carmen_. Bizet is probably turning over in his grave on a daily basis.

The words to the song they dance to at parties are so far removed from Tessa’s experience with Scott they might as well be nonsense. She wants what he’s telling her to be true, but that hardly counts. Not when Scott doesn’t mean it.

She’s pretty good about not reading anything into what Scott does as part of their training. They’re both professionals. Breaking down programmes into their individual elements and drilling them over and over again quickly makes them neither carnal nor romantic; not really. But house parties are different. House parties aren’t something they have to deal with as part of their job. She tells herself she can’t read too much into dancing with Scott at parties because Scott is— _Scott_. Performing is part of who he is; who they both are.

She tells herself she can’t read too much into it; she tells herself over and over. Her heart doesn’t listen, though. Her heart’s never listened to her, when it comes to Scott.

//

There are a lot of reasons why Tessa goes to fewer house parties the following season. She and Scott are filming that documentary on and off, and Tessa making awkward small talk with people she barely knows anymore, tipsy on American beer, isn’t something Canada needs to see. Four seasons into the quad, her friendship with Meryl and Charlie is finally, inevitably, breaking down. Tessa doesn’t know what to do about it, so she doesn’t do anything. Scott has a new girlfriend, one he can drive to see on the weekends, and she’s never liked the parties as much when Scott’s not there. The odd time when they’re not filming, they make it to Charlie’s or whoever’s and they dance to the last song and it’s as intense as it’s always been. It’s a hard season, for a lot of reasons, and Scott singing about fucking her until it’s so hot their faces melt isn’t making it any easier. Scott singing that he’s going to make her come is probably going to end her, one of these days. Tessa Virtue, 1989-2012; cause of death: Scott Moir actually knowing the words to a flipping song for once in his flipping life.

She considers, sometimes, just getting up and going home before it gets to that point. It’s not like she doesn’t know what’s coming once Charlie’s album starts playing. She always stays, though. Scott singing that he sees her, really sees her, and loves her anyway, isn’t something she can walk away from.

//

Midori comes to visit. It was mortifying, calling her up and asking her to hang out on camera to make it look like Tessa has friends, and she’s resolved to do better. Tessa _has_ friends. It’s just that she also has a gruelling training schedule and a deep-rooted conviction that no one really, truly likes her. Midori has a Friday she can take off work and Tessa has a couple of days where she’s not doing any sponsorship events, so she invites Midori down to Canton.

In an attempt to prove that yes, she does have a life outside work, she takes Midori to the usual Friday-night party. She realises before they arrive, Taylor Swift’s latest single recognisable from two doors down, that she and Midori aren’t going to be doing any catching up tonight. Neither of them will be able to make themselves heard over the music. That’s okay, though, thinks Tessa, as she introduces Midori to the group of people hanging out on the front stoop. It’s been a long week, and they have all weekend to catch up.

Whoever’s put themselves in charge of music replaces Meryl’s eighties playlist with Charlie’s album just after eleven. Tessa had told Midori when it started playing that the party would be winding down, but she can tell Midori’s surprised when people start saying goodbye and leaving. She can tell Midori is surprised, too, by how little Tessa’s drinking, but it’s the middle of her training season. It’s the middle of everyone’s training season, and the Olympics are only a couple of months away.

It’s getting close to the end of the album, Tessa and Midori dancing with a group of stragglers in the living room, when Scott finds her. ‘Kitchen in five?’ he asks, then seems to remember Midori. ‘Or, um, we don’t have to,’ he says. ‘You’ve got company.’

‘Five minutes is fine,’ she says. It’s been great hanging out with Midori but she’s hardly seen Scott all evening.

‘Great, see you there,’ he says.

‘Why the kitchen?’ asks Midori, once Scott’s gone.

‘Oh, um,’ says Tessa, realising suddenly that she’s never had to explain any of this before. Everyone she and Scott know in Canton just kind of take them for granted. ‘We need the space between the fridge and the island, for the dance.’

‘The dance?’

‘It’s not really anything,’ says Tessa.

Scott’s already there, waiting, when Tessa arrives. Midori’s followed her into the kitchen, and Tessa’s self-conscious for about a minute, until the song she’s been waiting for starts playing and she forgets about everything except Scott, and the performance.

_Oh, but the longing is terrible_

Scott’s front of her like he always is, looking straight at her; lips moving. Tessa closes her eyes, just for a second; just to shore up her defences. It is terrible, but she’s used to it. She’s used to how unfair it is that Scott gets to sing what she’s thinking. Scott sings along to everything, and it never means anything. If Tessa sang to Scott, it would mean something. She knows it, and she thinks Scott knows it too.

_Just to be near you sucking your skin_

_Not gonna leave you alone_

His lips don’t touch her; they never do. She would crack open, probably, if they did. She’d be torn apart. She can feel his breath, hot and shuddering, on her throat, but he doesn’t touch her. He leaves her alone.

_Give me the keys to your hiding place_

_I'm not gonna tear it apart_

_I'm gonna keep you weak in the knees_

_Try to unlock your heart_

He doesn’t need to unlock Tessa’s heart, is the thing. He knows every single last thing about her: her goals and her fears; her dreams and her insecurities. If there’s anything he didn’t know from growing up beside Tessa and training beside Tessa, he’s learned it in their therapy sessions. She thinks he must even know how much she wants him, because she can’t hide the way her body is reacting right now. She can feel the flush creeping up her chest and neck; can hear the unevenness of her breath—not from exertion, she’s in the best shape of her life, even better than before their first Olympics—but from the way she wants him; all of him.

Scott’s pupils are blown wide and she’s not blind, she can see that he’s hard; she knows that his body somehow, miraculously, wants what their dance promises without delivering. But that’s just— _Scott_. She knows his body practically as well as her own; she knows that every teenaged boner he ever popped in practice was just low level betrayal. She was embarrassed for both of them at the time, but it wasn’t until later that she came to understand exactly how much your own body can betray you, how it can do, or not do, things that you would never mean.

_Yes here of course there are miracles_

_Under your sighs and moans_

_I'm gonna take you_

_I'm gonna take you_

_I'm gonna take you home_

It’s Tessa’s favourite part of the song, but she breaks her connection with Scott anyway; lets her gaze drift sideways. It’s too much to face right now. Scott, looking right into her, singing what he’s singing, is just too much.

She catches Midori staring at her, wide-eyed. She guesses they’ll be having a conversation about this later, whether she wants to or not. Honestly, Midori was right there in the audience for their free dance when Worlds was in London last season. She knows it’s Tessa and Scott’s job to make audiences believe what they want them to believe. She should know the score by now.

There aren’t any words left in the song. Instrumentals roll them out; play them off. Scott, mercifully silent, doesn’t take his eyes off Tessa. Tessa doesn’t take her eyes off Scott. The vocalist speaks a single word, right at the end, and she and Scott always use it to check in with each other. Tessa’s okay. She has to be okay. She’d rather be here with Scott, her head a jumble and her heart on notice, than anywhere else in the world. She smiles at him, and he smiles back. ‘Cool,’ they whisper; both of them, together.

//

They spend half of an entire therapy session talking about Scott’s relationship with Cass. She comes up on a list of things Scott says are affecting his performance, though Tessa hasn’t noticed a huge difference. It’s true they’ve been struggling with their twizzles this season, but they’ve been practicing them as much as they can, trying to get back in sync. She’s noticed Scott’s quieter when they’re not on the ice, but he’d said he was just thinking about stuff that didn’t have anything to do with training, so Tessa hadn’t pushed.

‘I guess I’m better at hiding things from you than I thought,’ he says, once the session’s over. He waits outside Tessa’s passenger door while she fumbles with her key.

The lock releases, but she doesn’t move to get into the car. ‘You’re terrible at hiding things from me,’ she says. ‘I knew you liked Jess before you did, remember?’

‘Yeah,’ Scott says after a moment.

‘What else are you hiding from me?’ she asks as she puts her seatbelt on. It’s a joke, and she expects Scott to respond in kind, but he doesn’t. When he finally speaks, his tone, though light, doesn’t contain a trace of humour.

‘A couple things, not much.’

‘Okay,’ she says, after a beat. She checks her mirrors and indicators before pulling slowly out of her parking spot. ‘Well, I guess—do I need to know about them?’

Scott’s quiet for a long time. Tessa hadn’t been worrying, but she’s starting to; a little. ‘Scott?’

‘Yeah, probably not,’ he says, finally.

‘Okay, well, then I trust you,’ says Tessa. She does. She doesn’t have to tell Scott everything, and he doesn’t have to tell her everything.

‘Thanks, T,’ says Scott.

They stop at Safeway on the way back to get snacks for next week’s lunches. The brand of ginger ale Scott likes is on sale, and Tessa remembers she needs more laundry detergent, so they wind up buying more groceries than they’d planned.

They’re walking back to the car, shopping in tow, when Scott asks her if she thinks he should break up with Cass.

Tessa slows down, shifting the six-pack of pop she’s balancing on her hip and adjusting the handles on the plastic grocery bag she’s carrying. In a way, she’s not surprised. She’s pretty sure Scott was trying to get their sports psychologist to weigh in on the same question. On the one hand, Tessa agrees that it’s a decision only Scott can make. On the other, they’ve been relying on each other more than ever this season. They’ve always leaned on each other, but not like this. Not in place of people who should be giving them guidance but aren’t.

He gives her sideways glances all the way across the parking lot. Tessa can manage the walk now, so she’d picked a spot at the far edge, near the road.

‘I’m thinking,’ she says. She’s not, though. Not about Scott and Cass.

‘Why do you want to break up with her?’ she asks, when they reach the car.

‘Oh, you know,’ Scott says. All their groceries fit in Tessa’s trunk, no problem, but he’s moving things around anyway, swapping his ginger ale with Tessa’s laundry detergent for no reason she can see. ‘It’s that whole thing about where do you see yourself in a year or five years. Everything’s going to be different after Sochi,’ —Tessa’s stomach twists. It’s going to be so strange, not seeing Scott all the time— ‘And it’s been what, nine months, and I don’t love her. Not like—I don’t love her,’ he finishes, shutting the trunk carefully. Usually he slams his trunk and hers and all the doors on both their cars without really seeming to think about what he’s doing.

Tessa doesn’t know what to say. She wants to ask him what it was he almost said, and at the same time she doesn’t.

‘I guess you’ve made your mind up then,’ she says, finally.

Scott doesn’t say anything else until they’re most of the way back home. ‘What about the tv thing, though?’

‘What about it?’ asks Tessa.

‘You know how people got last time,’ he says.

She glances at Scott but he’s facing the other way, looking out the side widow. Tessa returns her eyes to the road.

The fans and the media had wanted them to be together after Vancouver. Or they’d wanted them to already be together, maybe. It seems like a long time ago now. She remembers being so embarrassed by all the questions that she hadn’t known where to look or what to say. She remembers that everything she’d done after their first Olympics, she’d done with Scott by her side, and that it had made everything somehow bearable.

The documentary is set to air in the weeks leading up to Sochi and she knows it’s supposed to include footage of Scott with Cassandra. In theory, Scott attached so publicly to someone who’s not Tessa should make things easier this time around.

Four years removed from Vancouver Tessa doesn’t give a hoot. If there’s one thing the past season has taught her, it’s to stop relying so heavily on what other people think. ‘So what?’ she says. ‘I don’t care if you don’t.’

//

When he tells her a week later that he and Cassandra broke up, it doesn’t surprise her. What does surprise her is what she does a week after that, though in retrospect it probably shouldn’t.

He walks her to her door one night after practice like he always does, even though Scott lives closer to where they park their cars than Tessa. She knows they’re not shooting today, she does, but she finds herself looking around for cameras anyway before she invites Scott in for a drink. He raises his eyebrows and she gives him a look, because this isn’t _that_ unusual. Okay; for a work night, maybe. Tessa usually just wants to eat and go to bed when she gets home from practice, but apparently tonight she wants to be impulsive.

Scott flops on her couch and turns on ESPN. Tessa fills the kettle and takes two of the powder blue teacup mugs that used to be her grandmother’s from the cupboard next to the sink. It takes her a while to find anything that’s not caffeinated, long enough that Scott offers to help look, but she finally finds a box of peppermint tea bags wedged behind some lasagne noodles that she’s never going to use.

She sets the mugs on the coffee table in front of Scott. She’ll sit down in a second, she thinks, but she doesn’t. What she does instead is pick up the remote and turn off the tv. Scott looks up at her, a question in his eyes.

She realises she’s twisting her ring around and around on her finger and makes herself stop. ‘Do you want to dance?’

He’s surprised, she can tell, but he says yes. He takes the mugs of tea back to the kitchen and together they move the coffee table out of the way.

Tessa has a handful of songs on her phone that are options and she picks one quickly, at random, before she can think too much about it. She doesn’t see any recognition on his face, and it’s more her type of music than his, but it doesn’t take Scott long to find something in the music that he can dance to. It reminds Tessa for a wild moment of one of those exercises where your dance instructor puts on a song no one knows, and you get to move however you feel like moving.

Tessa hadn’t planned for this to be the way she tells Scott, except that she’s thought a lot about doing something this bold over the past week, so it’s kind of as if she’d planned it, almost. She’d thought she was only daydreaming but clearly, she’d been kidding herself. Clearly, she’s braver than she gives herself credit for.

She shouldn’t be too surprised by her snap decision then, and she isn’t, not when she thinks about it. As a plan, it has a lot going for it, and highest on the list is its plausible deniability. She’s not _telling him_ telling him; she’s singing along to a song they’re dancing to. Still, she’s almost certain Scott will get it.

She thinks that if he doesn’t love her back, he’ll take her lead. He’ll downplay what he feels. Scott may be brash, but he’s not unkind; not ever. Not anymore. And she does know Scott loves her, so there’s that.

The only thing she doesn’t know, is if he’s in love with her.

The song has a guitar solo at the beginning, and then the drums kick in, and then the vocals. She’s so nervous that when she opens her mouth, nothing comes out. She misses the first couple of lines, and then the first line of the first refrain, but it’s okay. She’ll get where she’s going.

_Oh say say say_

_Oh say say say_

_Oh say say say_

Tessa’s heart beats in time to what she’s trying so desperately to say. They’re words that stutter, almost, but at the same time, they’re steady. Constant. Scott’s eyes snap to hers the second she starts singing. Confusion is written all over his face and she falters for a beat before continuing.

_Wait, they don't love you like I love you_

She thinks she hears Scott made a small, startled noise, but she can’t stop. It’s relentless, this song, and Tessa needs to keep up.

_Wait, they don't love you like I love you_

_Maps_

_Wait, they don't love you like I love you_

It’s not an easy song dance to, but Tessa’s not one to back down from a challenge. Her body finds a way to work with the music and after that it’s easy to work with the way Scott moves. The confusion is gone from his face, replaced by something she’s not sure she can name. His eyes never leave hers and it helps to ground her. Dancing with Scott, she can find the strength to anything. Everything.

_My kind's your kind_

_I'll stay the same_

_Pack up_

_Don't stray_

_Oh say say say_

_Oh say say say_

Scott’s still with her. Tessa stays with him and with the song. It has a starkness and intensity that speaks to the way she feels. If you stripped everything away from Tessa, absolutely everything, Scott would still be there. He’s in her bones; her sinews. He is her sinews, probably. She’ll be his, if he’ll have her.

The vocalist stops, and Tessa does too. She keeps dancing, though, and so does Scott. Eventually, the drumbeat cuts out and then the guitar and then, more abruptly than she expected, the last instrument standing; the one Tessa should remember the name of but doesn’t.

The silence when the song ends isn’t a thing she needs to be afraid of, but she is, a little.

When Scott finally speaks there’s something like awe in his voice. ‘Holy fuck, T.’

He’s stopped dancing, they both have, but he’s still with her. He hasn’t gone anywhere. It gives her the encouragement she needs to go for broke.

‘So, anyway,’ she says, ‘I love you.’

‘Yeah, I got that,’ Scott says. There’s amusement in this voice, and any other time she’d be annoyed, or embarrassed, but right now she doesn’t care. She almost doesn’t care if he doesn’t love her back; it’s such a relief to know she’s said everything she had to say.

Anyway, she’s pretty sure he does love her back. She’s pretty sure she knows what Scott almost said but didn’t, that day in the Safeway parking lot.

Pretty sure isn’t sure enough for her to ask, though.

‘I can’t sing,’ she says. It doesn’t have anything to do with anything, and it’s not like Scott cares. It’s not like Scott can sing either. It’s a nonsense thing to say, but she feels like she has to say something.

‘Yeah, I know,’ Scott says. ‘I don’t care. And, um—I love you. Too, I mean. I love you, too.’

‘You love me? Like, _love me_ love me?’

‘I do,’ he says, eyes as soft as she’s ever seen. They’re standing so close she could count each individual eyelash, if she wanted.

‘I thought you did,’ she confesses. ‘I mean, I hoped you did.’ He traces a thumb on the bare skin above the collar of her t-shirt. She shivers. ‘Did you hope I did?’

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Yeah, I did. I always did. Tess—’

There’s something odd in his voice, and she’s scared, suddenly, that he’s going to say he didn’t mean it; that it was all a joke.

He doesn’t, though. What he says, voice so low she almost doesn’t hear, is ‘—What if I kissed you?’

‘What if I kissed you?’ says Tessa. She doesn’t have to move very far for her mouth to brush his. His lips part for her immediately and she just kind of— _sighs_ into him. It feels so easy and so comfortable that she stays where she is for a long moment, palms flat against Scott’s chest, holding them in place. He’s warm even through his t-shirt. She feels his hand at the back of her head, bringing them closer and deepening the kiss, and everything moves so quickly after that. Not in a bad way; definitely not in a bad way, but kissing Scott for real is more unreal than all the times she’s imagined it. His hands bracket her head, keeping her safe, and she can tell he wants this as much as she does just by the soft, wrecked sounds that slip from so easily from his mouth to hers, but it’s so strange, kissing Scott. He’s so eager and so sweet, but she feels like she’s forgotten what to do with her lips, and her hands, and every other part of her body.

She feels as if she’s forgotten everything she knows about anything, and the strangest thing is that in this moment, Scott all around her, his hands and mouth on her and the scent of him everywhere, the unbalance isn’t terrifying. It’s exhilarating. It makes her want to drag time to a stop so she can experience everything, absolutely everything, while at the same time she longs to move faster and faster, because she’s waited so long for this already.

She has to stop eventually, disappointingly, for air. She and Scott rest their foreheads against each other and just—breathe. Tessa is keenly aware of her body; of Scott’s body; of their chests rising and falling in time, centimetres apart; of how much she wants no distance between them at all. She becomes gradually aware that she has a consciousness as well as a body. She considers, for a moment, the thoughts that arrive to tell her that she can’t do this; that she’s not good at this; that she’s not, and never will be, good enough. She tells herself, firmly, that these are lies. She tells herself that she deserves everything she’s willing to work for, and then she puts all that aside and returns to the moment. She returns to Scott.

‘Sorry,’ he mumbles. ‘That probably—I probably wasn’t very good.’

‘You were amazing,’ she says immediately.

His smile is a shy, almost uncertain one she doesn’t see very often. ‘You were amazing,’ he says, quietly.

She hadn’t been, but it doesn’t matter. So, she’d banged her teeth into Scott’s a couple of times; so, Scott had strangely, unbelievably, seemed at a loss as to what to do with his tongue. He’s maybe as scared of the two them as she is, she realises. It’s not such a big deal, though: being messy and uncoordinated and terrified. Not if they have each other. Getting to kiss Scott—finally, finally getting to kiss Scott—is a big deal. It’s a great deal. She leans in, but Scott pulls back. He’s holding onto her shoulders though, like he still wants her close. She likes that.

‘So, um, who’s ‘they’?’ he asks. ‘From the song,’ he adds, once he realises Tessa doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about.

She feels herself flush. She should have known that’s what he was talking about. ‘It’s hard to concentrate right now,’ she informs him. His grin is obnoxious, and she swats at him. He walks them backwards until his legs hit the back of the couch; hands warm against Tessa’s shoulders the whole time. He sits and she sits on top of him, straddling his lap because she can. She kisses him again, long and slow, wonderous at the way Scott’s already half gone; at how they’re already getting better at this.

‘Everyone else in the world,’ she says after she pulls away and catches her breath. Scott frowns, like he’s forgotten his own question. He’s adorable when he’s confused. ‘It’s hard to concentrate right now,’ he offers, and she laughs. Scott laughs, too.

‘That’s who ‘they’ is,’ she explains. ‘Everyone else. I love you more than everyone else does.’ It’s a bold thing to say, because Scott has lots of people who love him, but she feels like it’s true. She knows it’s true that she loves Scott more than she loves anyone else, but she’s shy, suddenly, about saying it. ‘So, do you want to go out?’ she says instead, because she’s pretty sure what Scott’s answer will be.

‘I’m all for giving the people what they want,’ he says. She doesn’t get what he means at first, and then she does, and yeah, there’s a good chance he’s as unsure about this as she is. His jokes are always the first thing to take a nosedive when he’s nervous.

‘Ha, ha,’ Tessa says, but she knows she’s smiling. He hasn’t answered her question, not seriously, so she feints moving away, like she might want to be somewhere else—she doesn’t, she never will—and he makes a satisfying sound, almost a whine, and pulls her to him. ‘We should definitely go out,’ he mumbles against her throat. ‘We definitely should,’ Tessa agrees.

Scott doesn’t say anything else, just holds her, hand moving restlessly over her back. It takes a couple of minutes, but then they’re breathing together, Scott’s hand slowing to keep time.

‘Are you sure?’ Tessa asks quietly.

‘’Course I’m sure, Tess,’ Scott says, too brightly.

She knows that voice. ‘Are you scared?’

Scott’s quiet for a moment. ‘Yeah,’ he admits. ‘You?’

‘Yeah.’ She presses her head into his shoulder. She wonders if he’s scared of the same things she is: of doing this wrong; of messing this up; of being, in the end, not good enough. She’ll have to ask him, sometime. Right now, she says, ‘That’s okay though, right? I mean, it’s okay to be scared.’

‘Yeah,’ he says, into her hair. ‘Yeah, it’s okay.’

//

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **resistate:** Thank you to blackglass for agreeing to work with me on a collab ft. our favourite versions of our favourite figure skaters; helping me shape the story; and recording, editing and producing such a fabulous podfic <3
> 
> Thank you as well to cas, Julija and Nicole for beta reading and encouragement <3
> 
> The songs featured, in order, are: ‘Lover’s Day’ – TV on the Radio and ‘Maps’ – Yeah Yeah Yeahs.
> 
> I played fast and loose with the timeline on this one.
> 
> ‘I love you.’ / ‘Bye.’
> 
> Find me on Twitter: @/mfparaph


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